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Loreena McKennitt - Marrakesh Night Market lyrics
March 16, 1993 - Arrived tonight in Marrakesh and am staying on the edge of the market. It is Ramadan and there is heightened activity all around. I am struck by the hooded features of men as they pass through the lights and shadows: they look monk-like. Horses, carriages, cars, bicycles and thousands of people are embroiled in the activities of the night...a cacophony of sound. I retreat to a rooftop cafe to watch while sipping mint tea...many circles of twenty or so people are scattered around the market, each involved in their own drama of music, storytelling, monkeys on men's shoulders, or cobras being coaxed to "dance" on rugs; "magic" concoctions of bone, seeds, stones and spices are sold...women are veiled to a great degree...I am struck by the sense of intrigue the environment creates; as much is concealed as is revealed... 16 mars 1993 - Je suis arrivee cette nuit a Marrakech et je loge en bordure du marche. C'est le Ramadan et les rues grouillent d'activites. Je suis fascinee par les silhouettes encapuchonnees des hommes qui passent de l'ombre a la lumiere: ils ressemblent a des moines. Les cheveaux, les carrioles, les voitures, les velos et les milliers de passants s'activent aux taches de la nuit...une cacophonie. Du haut d'une terasse de cafe sur un toit, j'observe tout en sirotant du the a la menthe...de nombreux cercles d'une vingtaine de personnes sont eparpilles sur le marche, entourant un musicien, un conteur d'histoires, des signes perches sur une epaule d'homme, ou des cobras obliges de "danser" sur des tapis; des potions "magiques" de poudre d'os, de graines, de pierres et d'epices sont vendues...les femmes sont presque entierement dissimulees derriere leurs voiles...et je suis frappee par l'impression de mysthere creee par cet environnement: il y a autant de cache que de devoile... 16. Maerz 1993 - Heute nach tkam ich in Marrakesh an und stehe nun am Rande des Marktes. Es ist Ramadan und um mich herum herrscht rege Geschaeftigkeit. Ich bin angetan von der Erscheinung der Maenner, wenn sie mit ihren Kapuzen an mir vorbei durch Licht und Schatten gehen, sie wirken wie Moenche. Pferde, Kutschen, Autos, Fahrraeder und Tausende von Menschen sind in die Aktivitaeten der Nacht verwickelt...Eine Kakophonie der Geraeusche. Ich ziehe mich in ein Dachcafe zurueck, um bei einem Mint-Tee zu beobachten...ueber den Markt sind viele kleine Gruppen von 20 oder mehr Personen verstreut, jede beschaeftigt mit ihrem eigenen Schauspiel von Musik, Geschichtenerzaehlungen, Affen auf Maennerschultern, oder Kobras, die zum "Tanz" auf Teppichen ueberredet werden; "magische" Gebraeue aus Knochen, Samen, Steinen und Gewuerzen werden verkauft...die Frauen sind in hohem Masse verschleiert und es beruehrt mich, wie dieses Umfeld einen Eindruck von Intrige vermittelt; soviel wie versteckt ist, ist auch offenbart... 16 de marzo de 1993 - He llegado esta noche a Marrakesh y estoy a las puertas del mercado. Es Ramadan y hay una ferviente actividad por todas partes. Las figuras de los hombres con sus chilabas pasando a traves de las luces y de las sombras me han dejado sorprendida: parecen monjes. Caballos, carros, coches, bicicletas y miles de personas participan en las actividades nocturnas...un sonido cacofonico. Me retiro a una terraza de un cafe para observar mientras sorbo un te de menta...hay muchos circulos de unas veinte personas dispersos por todo el mercado, cada uno con su propia musica, con sus propias narraciones, hay monos en los hombros de los hombres, o cobras encantadas que "bailan" sobre afonbrillas; se venden por doquier brebajes "magicos" de huesos, semillas y piedras...los velos de las mujeres apenas permiten verlas y queda atrapada por un fuerte sentido de intrigua que todo este ambiente ha creado; hay tanto de oculto como de revelado... They're gathered in circles the lamps light their faces the crescent moon rocks in the sky The poets of drumming keep heartbeats suspended The smoke swirls up and then it dies Would you like my mask? would you like my mirror? cries the man in the shadowing hood You can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face of your god The stories are woven and fortunes are told The truth is measured by the weight of your gold The magic lies scattered on rugs on the ground Faith is conjured in the night market's sound Would you like my mask? would you like my mirror? cries the man in the shadowing hood You can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face of your god The lessons are written on parchments of paper They're carried by horse from the river Nile says the shadowy voice In the firelight, the cobra is casting the flame a winsome smile Would you like my mask? would you like my mirror? cries the man in the shadowing hood You cna look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face of your god Music & lyrics: L.M. L.M. - vocals, accordion, synthesizer Brian Hughes - guitars, balalaika, electric guitar Rick Lazar - dumbek, udu drum, percussion Al Cross - drums Hugh Marsh - fiddle George Koller - bass |
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